


A Very Vicious Merry Christmas

by A_M_Kelley



Series: Happy Holidays, You Bastards! [4]
Category: Bandom, Punk Rock RPF, Sex Pistols (Band), The Ramones
Genre: Candy Canes, Christmas, Christmas Party, Disturbing Themes, Drug Abuse, Excessive Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Inner Dialogue, Love/Hate, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mistaken Identity, Near Death Experiences, Please Don't Hate Me, Rough Oral Sex, Sorry Not Sorry, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:45:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_M_Kelley/pseuds/A_M_Kelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>All I wanted to do was use the damn toilet... Was that so fucking difficult?!</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <b>**!!Merry Christmas!!**</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't a very happy story despite it being Christmas time and all (after all, it's called A Very Vicious Merry Christmas). Please heed the warnings and read at your own volition.

** Johnny **

It was Christmas eve and Johnny didn't want to particularly be here. He'd rather be in Queens with his mom and dad but seeing as how The Ramones were invited he had to make an appearance. Dee Dee didn't seem to mind though, after all it was a party with free alcohol, and Tommy had said it'd be great exposure for the band. Johnny was envious of Joey right now simply because he had an excuse not to show.

Johnny's done his fair share of partying, he's even indulging himself in a few drinks, but there's a particular atmosphere to this party he isn't entirely fond of. There's other bands here as well. A few he's heard of and others that had just come onto the scene. One of the more infamous ones present was the Sex Pistols and that made Johnny cringe inwardly as he sipped on bitter amber liquid.

He's heard the stories and read the newspapers and if he were being honest it was one of the main reasons why he didn't want to show up to this mediocre party in someone's crummy loft in the Bronx. Johnny didn't exactly hate them, he just didn't agree with their onstage antics. But there was a part of Johnny that secretly hopes they would do something horrendous. Maybe then the party would be called off on a count of someone throwing up on the stereo or perhaps starting a fight.

Still, Johnny stood off to the side, drink in hand and watching with contempt at everyone else having a good time from under his bangs. Dee Dee was chatting up someone from another band, possibly the guitarist from Blondie... _Or was it Talking Heads?_ Johnny hadn't a clue. His head was a little hazy from the few drinks he consumed through the evening and it was hard to concentrate on anything he wasn't interested in. He had no idea where Tommy was. Probably on official with some record executive. He was always so "together".

Johnny hated to admit it but he kind of missed Joey, not that he'd be engaging him in conversation if he were here. Joey was a member of the band and he belonged here with the rest of them, nationality be damned. Johnny himself didn't really care for Christmas but he still showed, but he had to understand the fact that Joey was Jewish no matter how much it made his blood boil. Johnny just didn't find it fair to suffer alone.

_He should be here with the rest of us, dammit!_

For a moment Johnny felt like going over to Dee Dee but he skipped off somewhere with the guitarist from Blondie (or Talking Heads) and he didn't particularly feel like hunting Tommy down. He could go over to the stereo where the infamous Johnny Rotten was standing, idly listening to a conversation he no longer wanted to be a part of. But as a last resort, Johnny downed the rest of his drink and set out to find the bathroom for a moment of reprieve.

Johnny pushed his way through the crowd of has-beens and potential rockstars, dancing to experimental music. He could see people passing drugs around as well as using them and it made him sick to his stomach. This wasn't his scene. It may have been one of the things Dee Dee signed up for, but Johnny didn't subscribe to this aspect of rock n roll. Drugs didn't help anything. It just made perfectly healthy things sick and diseased. It destroyed.

He thought he might actually up chuck and his quest for the bathroom became more desperate as he stumbled out of the hoping mess of bodies that strapped belts tightly around their arms and stuck themselves with needles. Johnny couldn't spare a glance backwards for fear that his stomach would eject all it's contents out onto the floor. Maybe that would be good enough to give him a ticket home.

_No... I can stick this through. My father didn't raise me to act like a baby and throw a tantrum just because I can't have my way._

"Johnny," a voice called out to him. He turned around to see Tommy with a questioning arch of his brow and eying precariously at the way Johnny clutched at his stomach. "Are you alright?"

"Going to the bathroom," Johnny says quickly, each word making his insides turn a little. "Don't feel well. Seeya."

"Are you sure?" Tommy asks insistently, pressing the matter further than it needs to be.

"Yeah, go back to mingling," Johnny deflects with a sweep of his hand in a random direction. He's hunched over a little now and trying to limit his vocabulary.

"But--"

"Tommy!" Johnny warns, reinforcing his tone even as it kills his last restraint and glaring at his bandmate almost as if he's... pleading?

"Okay," Tommy concedes, raising his hands up in defeat and backing away towards the crowd. "I'm mingling."

Johnny watches as Tommy recedes for a second before he staggers down a hall, running into a giggling couple as they emerge from a side room. They pay Johnny no attention though. _I wonder what kind of deviance they were getting up to..._ Johnny opens up a few doors sparing quick glances into darkened rooms until he came to the end of the hall. _Well this must be it..._

There's light coming out from under the door and it makes Johnny pause for a moment or two. _Perhaps I should knock first?_ He presses an ear to the door listening for movement, or any kind of noise for that matter, but finding none. It sounded pretty vacant to Johnny and his stomach was in knots, so he wasted no time in wrapping a hand around the doorknob an giving it a clockwise twist.

When he emerged into the tight space of the bathroom he was shocked to find someone actually in there. This someone was on the tile floor by the toilet and slumped up against the wall. There was a studded belt around a skinny bicep and a needle practically hanging out of his arm. Johnny could tell he was barely conscious even as the kid sucked idly and lazily on a candy cane. But what was most important about the whole scene before him was the occupant. Johnny recognized that messy mop of dark hair from anywhere.

_Sid-fucking-Vicious..._

His stomach turned even more at the sight of him, physically disgusted with this particular human being in front of him. _Jesus Christ..._ Johnny put his hands on his hips and stepped in front of where Sid was half-laying/half-sitting on the floor and nudged a booted foot with his own, coaxing the junkie to rouse awake from his stupor. But it did little to make Sid fully aware of Johnny's presence.

"Hey! Wake up!" Johnny barked, looking down at Sid when his eyes snapped open at the sudden loudness. "Other people need to use the bathroom. There's plenty of room to shoot up and O.D. out there with the rest of the junkies."

Sid begins to mumble, but no words get past the candy cane stuck in his mouth. He blinks and looks up at the genesis of the firm voice bleary-eyed, unable to distinguish who it is exactly but getting an idea or two on who in can be. Sid smiles and giggles a little, turning his head away slightly before loosening the belt around his arm and pulling the candy cane out of his mouth.

"Yer gonna make me laugh, Johnny... Goin' on like that," Sid chuckles weakly, swirling his tongue suggestively around the end of his candy cane. "Been waitin' fer you... Feels like ages..."

"Waiting for me?" Johnny asks a little confused, watching Sid's face go through a series of twitches and goofy grins.

"Don't you 'memba? I told ya in the room I would. When you were ready, of course..." Sid continues to tell him as if Johnny is the one mistaken. He locks gazes with Johnny but his vision still fails him, thus pushing him further into his delusion. "Took you long enough."

"I don't know what you're talking about. You obviously have the wrong John," Johnny tells Sid with irritation drenching his words, but Sid is unfazed by this. It's all a diversion tactic to him.

"Playin' 'ard ta get ain't gonna get you anywhere fast, John..." Sid chides lowly as he struggles to straighten his posture against the wall. Sid purrs in a raspy sort've sultry come on that leaves Johnny at a loss. It's most likey alcohol but most definitely the drugs deviating his speech. "You ready fer round two, darling?"

"I don't think you realize who you're talking to," Johnny says bluntly, insides twisting at the thought of Sid-fucking-Vicious coming onto him. Now he really wants to throw up.

"You don't 'ave ta be coy..." Sid sticks the candy cane back in his mouth and sits up fully now, getting to his knees in front of Johnny with that crooked smile of his. "I'll give it to ya, sweetheart," Sid mumbles around his candy. "Jus' let me do all the work."

Johnny looks down at Sid, watching and waiting to see what he does next. He's somewhat disturbed by the fact that he isn't pushing Sid away especially when the dark haired boy reaches out blearily to grope him through his torn jeans. Johnny freezes reflexively and his blood boils at the nerve of this fucking junkie touching him so intimately. But the fact of the matter is that Johnny isn't doing anything to stop him. He should deck him one, right in that pretty little mouth of his...

_Wait... Pretty?! Am I fucking kidding?! Some junkie wannabe punk from England?! I don't fucking think so..._

Sid squeezes him through his jeans and Johnny's mortified to find himself actually reacting to his touch, getting turned on without the consent of the better half of his brain. Johnny can see Sid smiling like a lunatic at how he's getting and he honestly tries to will his body to turn itself off, but he can't. It's no use now that Johnny's brain is overwhelmed by the persistent pressure being applied to his clothed erection.

"Mmm, fuck yer so hot like this, John," Sid practically moans, rubbing a hot flushed cheek against the impressive bulge in Johnny's pants. He cuddles it like a cat. "Fuck, I want you inside me. But we'll save that fer 'nother night, love. I've got somethin' special fer ya."

The Londoner really wastes no time in undoing Johnny's pants and getting to more pressing matters at hand. Johnny's jeans get yanked down mid-thigh to release some of the restraint against his erection. Sid, pulling the candy cane out of his mouth, immediately begins to mouth it sloppily through his underwear, gasping like a fish out of water. It's almost comical to watch... but damn does it turn Johnny on.

After Sid plays with and teases Johnny through his underwear for a considerable amount of time he claws at the elastic to let them join with his jeans as well. Johnny's cock is stiff and hard as it's sprung free from the confines of it's cotton prison, enjoying the feeling of Sid's tongue pressed flat against the underside of it. _Fuck, that shouldn't feel so good..._ Sid swirls his tongue around the tip experimentally, suckling just slightly for added effect. _What the fuck am I doing?_

"I don't 'memba you bein' circumcised, Johnny," Sid huffs, hot sticky breath ghosting over Johnny's flushed cock. If Sid were in his right mind and not high as a kite, he'd realize the terrible blunder he has made. But he isn't and he doesn't.

Johnny doesn't say anything in return to this, Sid is obviously off his head from whatever he shot up before Johnny came along. He can't speak anyway. Johnny's afraid that if he opens his mouth vomit will come out instead of coherent words. All Johnny can think about are two facts: One, Sid was obviously waiting for another John, not him, and second, that John was most likely Johnny Rotten. Johnny didn't know what he loathed more, Sid meaning to pleasure Rotten, instead of him, or the fact that Ramone was the lucky recipient.

_Since when was I jealous of Johnny-fucking-Rotten for having someone I don't even want?_

All thoughts are forgotten when Sid leans in and wraps his lips around Johnny's cock, moaning as he does until he reaches his limit and starts to gag. He isn't sure if it's on purpose for his benefit or if Sid's gag reflex is truly kicking in, but it makes Johnny throb either way at the thought of the dirty dark haired boy struggling to take all of him in that pretty mouth of his.

_Yeah, choke on it you little junkie shit... I wanna see tears in those big dark eyes._

Sid bobs his head a little less than gracefully a few times before pulling off entirely with a wet pop. He unconsciously licks at his lips, remembering vaguely of the candy cane that is making his hand sticky. Sid raises it to his mouth and licks it playfully. And, through the haze of his muddled up brain, Sid formulates an ingenious little experiment that is too outlandish not to try.

Sid takes the curved end of his candy cane, wetting it liberally with his lazy tongue, and hooked it around the base of Johnny's cock. Sid rubbed it up and down the length of Johnny a few times, making the Ramone grimace a little at the strange texture and stickiness it left in it's wake. Sid licks his lips once again, jonesing to lean forward and suck on that sweet piece of candy as well as Johnny's cock.

_Fucking tease..._

As an incentive, and to get things moving along, Johnny tangles a hand in Sid's dirty ratted hair to push that sharp face closer to his sticky and slightly tingling hard on. _Must be the peppermint..._ Sid realizes he should be wincing as his follicles are yanked on harshly but the pain is barely there with the numbing power of drugs and alcohol. Besides, the pain would just spur him on even more.

The candy cane draws up towards the tip of Johnny's cock and it makes the Ramone shudder with delight, especially when Sid leans in to lick along the candy cane with sloppy precision. Sid's tongue curls around the candy and head, mixing sweet peppermint with salty bitterness in a perfect combination of tooth rotting sugar and pre come. It nearly intoxicated all of Sid's remaining senses that weren't priorly impaired.

Sid tries to steady himself with a clammy hand to Johnny's thigh while he struggles to map out the cock begging entry into his mouth once again. The hand is still pushing him closer, unconsciously guiding him in his trek, and Sid takes that as a sign of good faith to trust where the hand is directing him. He soon finds the perfect angle to engulf both the head of Johnny's cock and the candy cane.

Once Johnny is inside that wet hot suction of lips with the coupled tingle of peppermint, he is spinning off into another dimension. The prickling sensation of the festive sweet begins to burn the sensitive skin along his hard muscle, but it's a somewhat pleasant burn as it also cools him in an indescribable way. Sid twists the hook of the sweet a fraction to the left and it makes Johnny buck by reflex.

_Oh, fuck yes, just like that. Yes._

Sid makes a pleased little hum and continues to do it over and over again as he suckles on salt and peppermint. The taste should be mystifying but that fact that the alcohol and heroin have heightened his taste buds made it bearable, pleasant even. The hand that was supposed to be steadying himself is now wrapped around the base of Johnny's cock, stroking and twisting almost by reflex as if it's the most common thing he does on a daily basis.

_Perhaps he does do this often. After all, he thought I was Johnny-fucking-Rotten and from the sound of it, it seems like him and Rotten planned to meet. Instead I showed up and he didn't. How lucky... Where the fuck was Rotten anyway?_

The dirty dark haired boy sucked, twisted, and stroked in offending directions and sloppy tempos but it made no difference to Johnny. It was enough to get Johnny going, especially when coupled with the peppermint burning his cock in the greatest way possible. Johnny didn't take the sloppiness as inexperience, Sid had a lot of it apparently, but rather as the effect from the vices Sid consumed. Or rather, the vices that consumed Sid.

And, as if timing it perfectly even with Sid's conscious disadvantage, he remembered to look up into Johnny's eyes even if he couldn't remember how to refocus those dark pools of abyss. Watching Sid swirl his tongue over candy and hard flesh made Johnny bite his bottom lip in frustration. It just wasn't quite enough and he was so close.

Suddenly the candy cane became too thin and Sid's arm slumped slightly, causing it to break off from the pressure. Johnny was almost thankful that it broke, not that he wasn't entertained by the candy idea, he just needed to get off fast before the feeling passed. Sid seemed to catch onto this.

Sid tossed the rest of the candy cane aside, stopping only to lick the stickiness off of his hand that was painted in blurry smudges of festive red. _Yeah, take you're fucking time you little shit... It's you're fault this is even happening!_ Sid was cut off from his own meandering by a rough pull of his hair. Sid seemed to get the picture, as blurry as it was in saucers of dark chocolate irises.

Johnny pulled Sid's hot mouth down the full length of his cock, watching the red dye from the candy cane smudge and run off from the amount of saliva Sid was producing. Sid instantly gagged when Johnny's cock hit the back of his throat, but it didn't discourage or deter him in the least. If anything, Sid embraced it. He didn't mind suffering and struggling, just look at his life choices...

Both of Sid's hands braced against Johnny's thighs for support as the Ramone took control of his mouth, movement, and tempo. It was shallow and rough on Sid's throat, and he'd definitely be hoarse for at least a day or two, but he preferred it. He got off on losing control of a situation, especially when his mind was teeming with numbness.

Johnny wasn't going to last long, but that was the point. Now he was just trying to get this over with and go back to his regular life. One that didn't include Sid-fucking-Vicious and his horribly pretty face. _Gotta keep it fucking together. He's not pretty._ Sid moans and chokes a little, looking up at Johnny once again but with watery eyes this time. _He's not worth getting bent outta shape over._ Those wide eyes shimmer with salty tears and those lips drip with saliva. _He is poison._ Johnny's hands are still wrapped in a tangled mess of darkness as he pulls and shoves Sid's head down his throbbing cock. _He is addiction._

Sid moans wantonly when he feels Johnny's cock pulse against the flat of his tongue and that's all it takes before Johnny finally comes in a mixture of salt, sugar, and red dye that coats the inside of Sid's gasping mouth. Sid's throat contracts around Johnny's pulsating cock as he attempts to swallow and it makes the Ramone light-headed from the surrealism of his orgasm.

Johnny opens his eyes, forgetting when he closed them exactly, and looks down at Sid as he pulls that messy head away from his twitching cock. _Jesus Christ... What the fuck did I just do?_ He's looking down at Sid, noting the copious amounts of saliva running down his chin and the smeared red dye from the candy cane all around his abused lips. And those eyes... So warm and so intense. Pupils blown wide from arousal and smack. _Fuck... That shouldn't look sexy. I should be repulsed... But I'm not._

"Mmm," Sid moans, licking and biting his lips suggestively. He hums softly in contentment and clearly out of breath. "Merry-fucking-Christmas to me, eh?"

He realizes that this is the right time to move or say something. Do anything, really. But he can't. Johnny feels ashamed and somewhat embarrassed by this whole situation. Johnny's cheeks heat up to a bright pink and his throat muscles contract a few times as if trying to say something but no sound comes out. It almost feels like a word vomit.

_Nope... It's actual vomit._

Johnny hunches over and, luckily, makes it to the bowl in time to hurl his guts out into already filthy porcelain. _Well, at least I got what I came here for. Took me long enough._ Johnny wretches a few more times, all while Sid giggles like it's the funniest thing in the world.

They both emerge sometime later. Johnny on his own two feet and Sid being practically dragged across the distance. Johnny spots Rotten who is still by the stereo system and pretty much thrusts the barely conscious, giggling, horny mess that is Sid Vicious. Rotten catches him under the arms and looks on at the Ramone with bewilderment.

"I think that belongs to you," Johnny informs with barely hidden contempt.

"John!" Sid exclaims excitedly, and perhaps a little curiously. He giggles profusely and in no way asks seriously, "How're you in two places at once? And when did you get yer willie skin snipped?"

Before Rotten can get a word in or question Sid's outrageous claims, Johnny turns his back and storms off with a rain cloud above his head. Johnny didn't mean for all this to happen... Shit, he isn't entirely sure if it did, but he does feel a little guilty if Sid is in trouble with Rotten now. That's not his business or place to be either way and there's nothing he can do about it now. But this isn't his fault. Not entirely at least. _All I wanted to do was use the damn toilet... Was that so fucking difficult?!_ There's a part of him that regrets it, but at the same time he doesn't, and that scares Johnny the most. He sighs and shudders inwardly...

_Sid-fucking-Vicious..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened before Sid and Johnny crossed paths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is much more dark than I planned it to be so please heed the warnings and read with caution!

** Sid **

Sid thought it was nice that the Sex Pistols were actually invited somewhere despite their rather rocky and infamous stage career thus far. If no one could handle a little spit, vomit, and blood then they could fuck right off and mind their own business, but seeing as how the host didn't mind it was a good sign. _Who was the fucking host anyway? Eh, who cares... As long as there's free alcohol._ Sid shrugs and disbands from the rest of the group to take a fairly sizeable bottle for himself and trek off somewhere else entirely.

He didn't know very many people here as well, seeing as most of them were native to New York, but he did find a few familiar faces. He saw Dee Dee Ramone talking to some girl who handed him a suspicious looking little a vial and Sid recognized what it was almost instantly. _If I do remember correctly him and I do share an appetite for the same poison..._

Sid sidles up to Dee Dee as the brightly dressed girl makes her departure off to parts unknown and practically slams into the Ramone when he turns around. Dee Dee makes a surprised noise and he drops the vial to the scuffed up floor unconsciously unaware that it even happens. Sid pardons himself with an apologetic smile and feigns ignorance as he tries to distract the fellow bass player from his blunder.

"Oh, hey! You're a Ramone, aren't you?" Sid inquires curiously, face going through a series squints and head tilts. He points the neck of the whiskey bottle at the other. "You must be..."

"Dee Dee," the Ramone finishes when Sid trails off precariously. He sticks his hand out and shakes Sid's hand with a friendly smile. "And you're Sid!"

"That's right! You play the bass as well," Sid agrees, nodding his head as if this is all news to him. He darts his eyes to the ground, scoping out where the vial has gone, before looking back up at Dee Dee. "Where are the others?"

"Joey couldn't make it, but the other guys should be around here somewhere..." Dee Dee trails off as he looks around for them.

Sid takes this as his chance. He bends down quickly and snatches up the precious little vial it's owner has so recklessly abandoned with his free hand before he drags attention to himself. _Won't be missin' this, will he?_ Sid straightens up just in time when Dee Dee turns back to him, shrugging his shoulders and dropping his hands to his sides.

"I'm sure they'll show sometime later," Sid reassures the clueless Ramone with a perfectly dishonest smile that makes him look too innocent. He slips the vial into his back pocket as he begins to excuse himself. "Catch ya laters, then!"

"Yeah, definitely, man!"

Feeling rather accomplished with himself, Sid wanders off down the only hallway, taking huge pulls from the whiskey bottle. He places his hand against what he thinks is a wall but is really an ajar door, causing him to stumble through with heavy feet. Sid catches himself on the edge of the bed and takes a look around despite the room being pitch black. _Well, it's obviously a bedroom since there's a bed._

Sid doesn't even bother to turn the light on, he simply plops down on the mattress, making it bounce on rusty springs. He leans back propped up on one elbow as he chugs more of that vicious liquid that burns his throat raw on it's journey to the pit of his stomach. Sid isn't sure how long he does this for, it seems like a life time when the alcohol starts to do it's work on him.

The bottle was nearly full when he grabbed it and now it was almost gone. Sid paused mid drink when he heard the door close with a soft click and his lips quirked up in a lopsided grin. _I knew you'd come looking for me..._ The light was turned on without warning and Sid grimaced, squeezing his eyes tightly to cancel out the harsh florescent. _Well that wasn't very nice, was it?_

"It was a pain in the ass findin' you," a voice snaps at him, heavy with irritation. Sid only smirks.

"Place ain't that big, John," Sid informs with that smug cockiness.

Sid raises the bottle up to his lips once more for a good pull from it. But Johnny snatches it from his limp grip. Sid looks up to where Johnny stands over him and watches his band mate down the rest of his bottle that he rightfully stole from everyone else. The dark haired boy exhaled with contempt.

"You're rotten, you are!" Sid complains, witnessing the last of the alcohol disappear down Johnny's throat.

The dark haired boy sits up and lurches forward to wrap his lanky arms around Johnny's waist, pulling the shorter man down on top of him. _I'll teach ya to steal what I stole first!_ The bottle thumps to the ground when Johnny's grip weakens around the neck and Sid flips them over so that he has Johnny pinned to the creaking mattress. Sid grins down at John predatorily and bends down quickly to bite hard on his slender neck in mock passion.

"Ow!"John howls, pushing at Sid's chest to get him as far away as possible. "And yer a vicious little twat! Get off!"

It takes John a few times to grasp the torn cotton of Sid's shirt but he finally manages to push a giggling Sid off of him. They both sit up, Johnny trying to smooth out his clothes and Sid trying not to cry from laughing so hard. _Always so serious, his John..._

"Wot you doin' in 'ere anyway?" John asks after Sid calms down a little, letting the little love bite slip just this once.

"Could ask ya the same thing," Sid remarks.

"I was worried 'bout you, you ungrateful little shit," Johnny snaps, but he doesn't mean it. "There's a party out there 'memba? A party we were actually _invited_ to, Sidney."

_My sweet, beautiful John. Always so protective._

"The only party goin' on is the one inside me trousers... and yer on the VIP, love," Sid purrs suggestively, cocking his eyebrows in invitation. He's not sure if he's being sincere or sarcastic, perhaps both since it's a rather lame come on. "Might wanna RSVP. It'd be rude ta not make an appearance... Might upset the host."

"Oh yeah? Well, consider me priorly engaged and express me condolences to the host later," John retorts back just as sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Have him reschedule."

"I'm afraid it's a once in a life time opportunity, love. He doesn't bend to the will of others," Sid chides, running a hand up John's thigh in exaggeration as he grins like a fool. "Well... not much at least."

"You're drunk, you are!" John protests, pushing Sid's whiskey addled body away. It feels like pushing a brick wall, he's so heavy.

"Give us a kiss, pet," Sid's whines, trying to get in Johnny's space.

John's hands slip and Sid falls on top of him once again, burying him into the mattress and sheets. Sid claims his mouth in a sloppy kiss, if you can even call it that, and places a fumbling hand over John's groin, trying to turn him on. John responds to the kiss but still insists that Sid put his hand elsewhere. John wraps a hand around Sid's neck tenderly, applying little pressure, and it immediately makes the dark haired boy reel back.

"Come on, John. I waited 'ere jus' fer you," Sid slurs, looking down at Johnny with those pleading pools of abyss. "I knew you'd come lookin' fer me. Let me make ya feel good."

"You're drunk, Sidney," Johnny says for the second time, but it's much more firm and serious. Johnny isn't in the mood, especially if Sid is thoroughly sloshed. "We really need to get back to the party."

"Alright, mum!" Sid mocks, getting off of Johnny, knowing when he's breached the other's comfort level. _Always so responsible, my John._ "You get back to yer party."

"Wot 'bout you?" Johnny inquires curiously, furrowing his brow line questioningly. "Wot're you gonna do, then?"

"Oh, me? Jus' be waitin' is all," Sid tells him nonchalantly, picking at a thread on his shirt.

"Wot for?"

"Fer you ta change yer mind."

Johnny sighs heavily before getting up and heading for the door, he stops in the doorway and casts a gaze back at Sid. Sid is struggling to sit fully upright and Johnny shakes his head, leaving the door open as he goes back to the party. _Always playing so hard to get... Now I know why we call you Rotten._ He spies a candy cane on the bedside table and snatches it up, unwrapping it before sticking it in his mouth.

Sid soon musters the rest of his strength and slinks off to the bathroom. He flicks a light on but doesn't bother to lock the door. He feels around idly for the vial in his back pocket, pulling it out and holding it up to a light to inspect it. When he's inspects it to the best of his boozed brain, he produces a little syringe from his front pocket. _Good, this one didn't break this time..._

The dark haired boy yanks off his belt in one mighty tugs and straps it securely to his left arm, squeezing his hand a few times to get the blood flowing a little more. He takes the syringe and pulls back the plunger, filling up the empty vessel with liquid happiness. Sid fiddles with it for a moment then places to tip of the needle against his pale skin.

For a brief moment Sid pauses to look at his various track marks, finding no remorse in their meaning whatsoever. _I need it._ And Sid sticks himself without a second thought, wincing at the slight pinch of pain that makes it all worth while, injecting himself with that sweet, cruel poison. His belt loosens just enough to let the smack venture out into his blood system, but it isn't enough to fall off entirely.

A wave of uneasiness washes over Sid and he sways a little, feeling suddenly dizzy. Almost light-headed, like he's out of his body. _This isn't right._ His tongue unconsciously pushes the candy cane in his mouth to one side before it becomes lead heavy and stiff. _Something's wrong here._ Sid doesn't feel the familiar euphoria he immediately experiences when he's using, instead it's replaced with panic and rigidity. He feels like he's seizing up. _No... Not here._

Sid looks up at himself in the mirror when he's finally able to raise his head to eye level. He looks sickly pale, much more pale than he really is, and his vision is blurring fast to the point where everything looks like a pastel smudges. He grips the edge of the sink, trying to keep himself upright, but it's no use. _London bridge is falling down..._

The last image of himself is quite disturbing but so typical in retrospect. _Always imagined myself to be dropping dead with a syringe stuck in my arm in someone dingy bathroom at some party..._ Sid laughs at the irony as he collapses to the ground, giggling as he goes and falling short of the toilet. _Maybe if I was trying hard enough I could've bashed my skull in._

His body refuses to move no matter how hard he tries and all he can manage is to suck on the candy cane stuck in his mouth as the world around him gets inevitably dimmer. Sid is barely conscious now and he holds onto the hope that his Johnny will come looking for him again, but as the seconds seem to drag on into hours that hope slowly fades along with him.

Somewhere in a far off place he can here the door click open and he wills his eyes to open, but his brain can't comprehend the order. Someone nudges his foot a little firmly and still his body refuses to react, or comply for that matter. But there's something inside Sid that fights, something that refuses to let the poison win. He can hear a voice in the distance.

"Hey! Wake up!" The voice barks at him and suddenly his eyes are open. "Other people need to use the bathroom. There's plenty of room to shoot up and O.D. out there with the rest of the junkies."

Sid tries to reply back but the words fail him, instead he looks up with his remaining strength to see the blurry figure standing over him. He giggles ruefully, almost thankfully, at his luck. _It can't be... It's my beautiful Johnny, coming to take me away..._ Sid salvages his remaining will to live and tears the belt and syringe away from his arm. He refuses to die here.

_Not here. Not in front of my Johnny..._


End file.
